


fortunata

by lloronadeazulceleste



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-08-02 22:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16314083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lloronadeazulceleste/pseuds/lloronadeazulceleste
Summary: Realization doesn't come easily. Azula found it in her misery.(or, what Azula lived right after the end of the series. drabbles.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> She had been born lucky.

She had been born lucky. It was written all over the records. It was passed as a message of glory between the courtesans. Ursa heard her second child’s cry right at the Eve of the Summer Solstice. It was an omen – she’d be the most powerful firebender of all times. History would remember her name – nations would crumble at her feet. His father hadn’t been prouder, they said. Azula believed it for years; had no reason not to. She had been proud, too. She was kissed by the sun. Blessed by fire. A prophecy ready to fulfill.

_She is not as sure as before. Not anymore._

They stripped her of her bending. It had hurt. Princess Azula had expected it to be smooth. Something that could not bother her physically, after all, she had endured worse. She was wrong.  It  _did_  hurt. It felt as if she was on fire – she could only scream, flames running through her body, lightning shaking her every muscle. And then, it was nothing. 

She was empty. Her dreams of glory and her accomplishments all banished from Earth. As if she had been nothing. As if that had always been her destiny.  _As if she was never even a player._

_She had been born lucky._

They put her in an asylum. Said she was  _mad, mad, mad_. She  _would_  show them mad. She would. (But she can’t. She’s  _too weak_.  _Too tired. Too proud)._  Maybe some other day. Maybe in some other life.

Her brother –  _traitor, coward, Zuko_  – did not spare a second glance at her. (She didn’t listen to the weak ‘make sure she’s alright’ he muttered to the guards –  _she didn’t need to. She didn’t need anything from him_ ).

_He was lucky to be born._

Chains coffined her hands – icy and piercing, as if they were still afraid of what she was capable of.  _They better be_ , she thought. Her lips curved into a bitter smile, but she didn’t feel better at all. Her spark was gone. She was useless. No longer a threat. No longer a promise. No longer  _something_.

_She had been born lucky._

There were no curtsies – they reserved it for her brother.  _Traitor, coward, Zuko_. The former princess was dragged out of her home without ceremony. A decent attire was not granted to her – her armor had been taken, too. Azula doubted they would take care of it as she pleased. Was right in believing it so. They dressed her in peasant fashion –material as itchy against her skin she felt sick. Long, beautiful hair now a mess, why would they bother trying to fix it? It was what she deserved.  _‘Let them see her as the monster she is_ ’.

_She. Had. Been. Born. Lucky._

Azula caught them smirking at her, heard their excited whispers, their cruel jokes.  _Their looks of joy_. They seemed like wolves eyeing their prey – she didn’t grant them a show of it. Azula was never known for mercy, after all. She might have lost, but she would still demand respect. 

Nobody listened now.

_She had been born a royal._

Azula only allowed herself to look back once she was on the carriage – the palace stood proud, even in its loss. Rain washed away any trace of her empire, of the things she had lost just as she had won them. A nation brought to its knees. A century of power thrown away by the hands of scum. The former princess muffed a sob that sounded more like a growl.

_Where was her luck now?_


	2. (s)fortunata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It never crossed to her mind that scars do not always look like the one in Zuko’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for references of child abuse.

She was never visited. Not that she expected them otherwise. They had all betrayed her in the end. Her brother. Mai. Ty Lee. Her father. Her friends had chosen her brother, just like her mother did. For all that was worth, and thinking positive, Azula was sure that, even _if_  they  _did_  want to go, she wouldn’t have wanted them to see her like that.

The first few days, she barely had any sleep. She couldn’t. Her room there was too lit. They wanted to keep an eye on her, for obvious reasons. It wasn’t easy to fall asleep when you were tied to the bed, either. Soon enough there was a purple shadow under her eyes, disgracing and mocking her, and a redness to her nose. Her normally graceful demeanor was gone. How come she could preserve it when her entire life had turned upside down? A trail of dried blood surrounding her otherwise lovely lips served as a reminder of what was done to her.

“It’s all for your own good, Azula,” said one of her nurses, securing whatever it was that kept her tied to the bed. She wanted to note that a “Princess” was lacking, but the medicine was strong, as much as her eyelids. Princess Azula had had enough of fighting already. Surrender was new, and although it was completely uncomfortable, she had no other option.

The sooner she accepted it, the better.

“Your brother is doing the right thing looking out for you.”

Azula would have snapped if she had the strength to do so. The nurse’s words angered to no end. However, there was no fire left to run through her veins. No words to use against her. No knives nor weapons. No respect to her name. She could only stare as she let her do her work. She even hummed softly at herself, as if Azula wasn’t there. As if she didn’t matter. At the back of her head, she could still smell smoke – could still feel the bitter cold. The war had ended. Azula had lost. Azula had lost, and she must pay for what she did.

It was on her third month there that someone came expecting to see her.

“Well, aren’t you gonna ask me who that is?” asked her nurse, in a cheerful tone that almost made Azula gag. No matter how excited she might’ve felt – she was afraid of hoping for too much. Still, her heart beat fast, and she almost felt the ghost of a smile creeping to her lips.

“We must get you all pretty, don’t you think? It’s not every day you’ve got any visitors,” she said, slowly helping her sit. “Let alone, male.”

_Zuko._

It had to be him.

The prospect almost made her cry. Azula could’ve sworn she felt her breath hitching, and a broken sigh escaped her lips before she could prevent it.  She did as she was told, letting the nurses put her hair in a tight bun. A light adorning her face.

But it was all for nothing.

Her hope fell down as soon as she saw a stranger on the other side of the room, carrying scrolls.

“I’m expecting to talk to the princess alone,” he said, and the nurses offered a small nod and left.

Azula let her shoulders fall, and bit hard at her lips.

“Who are you?” she said, and her own voice sounded coarse and harsh – dried in a way. Words stumbled, foreign to her tongue. It had been so long since she last spoke.

“Is it safe?” the man asked, looking at his surroundings. He had a wary look on his face, mixed with something Azula couldn’t quite place. It seemed like disgust. Or revulsion, but she couldn’t say for sure. He did seem uncomfortable. And stiff. So stiff he reminded her of the war.

“I asked you a question,” she said, closing her eyes. She needed not to think about it. There was no use in it. If ever, it only left her with enough self-hatred to attempt to do something she wouldn’t regret. For now, she wanted to hear whatever it was the stranger wanted. And she wanted to hear it right away.

If he hadn’t bothered in a greeting, it must have been important.

Or it could be that nobody thought of her as a person anymore. Azula didn’t want to dwell too much on that.

“So did I,” was his response. Cold, calculated. A man who had some power, Azula finally decided.

She glared at him, and if looks could kill…

“I’m here to talk about your oncoming trial.”

“My oncoming trial? I didn’t know I was having one,” she said, and there was humor in her voice. A sharpness attached to it, too.

“ _Firelord Zuko_ —”

“Why isn’t he here?” she shot, her chin up and proud. If he cared, he would have visited. If he cared, he wouldn’t have sent someone to deal with her.

(She almost thanked him for that. For not caring. For choosing himself over her. for doing the right thing. For not letting his emotions cloud him – but she didn’t. She missed him too much for that. She had always been selfish, anyway).

“He sent me, your Highness,” the man finally explained with a bow. “I’m your lawyer.”

“I didn’t hire you.”

“Your brother, our Firelord, did.”

“Well, I don’t want you,” she said with a shrug.

“That doesn’t concern you,” he said, not missing a beat.

“If  _my_  trail is the one that’s—”

“No offense, princess, but there’s not much you can do. It is already settled,” he said, not bothering to look at her. “Now, let me explain myself.”

“By all means, do. I’m dying to listen,” she replied, and her words were as biting as she could manage.

“I’m your lawyer, princess. Your brother took the effort to hire the most capable man for the task.”

“Now, that’s new.” Zuko cared enough for her not to go to prison, but not enough to go visit her. It didn’t surprise her. In fact, she believed he was only doing this –hiring lawyers and all – so he didn’t have to deal with the shame of having relatives in prison. It wouldn’t do well to his reputation. His image would be tainted.

The realization hurt, as much as realizing she was really all alone.

“And I will do my job, whether you like it or not. But I need you to cooperate,” the man finished, looking for her eyes. She kept her head low and shook it softly.

“Well, I don’t want to.”

“I’m afraid you’re not understanding me, princess.”

He had the nerve to talk to her like that! And she couldn’t do anything to prevent him. She had only her tongue.  “Which part do you think I’m not understanding?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You could go to prison for your crimes,” he spoke as if he was talking to a child.

He was, but Azula was offended anyway.

“And where exactly am I, sir?” she asked, a bitter smile resembling a growl on her lips. “I don’t care. Here, there. It’s all the same.” A gilded jail. A golden cage.  _She was still trapped_.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re lucky you’re here and not in some filthy cell.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” she sneered. “Didn’t realize I had to thank my extremely generous brother for this!”

Azula had lost. And she wasn’t even granted the honor that came with death.

“It could be worse.”

“No, it can’t.”

* * *

She went to trial. The room was full of people that had a lot to say about her. In more than one occasion, her eyes were filled with tears, and she had to bite her lips. One gets used to horror once you learn to ignore it. Azula never expected it to get back to her later.  She didn’t expect the pain that came with it.

As instructed, she said she hadn’t meant to. She said she was forced. That her father never loved her, but use her nonetheless.

Azula always lied. A small voice on her mind told her so, in a vain attempt at making her feel better. Perhaps what she was most afraid of was a lack of regrets. A fear of accepting that, indeed, her father never loved her. That she had been nothing but a war machine. A weapon he craved himself. A child _. A child. A child!_

But how could she feel regret, when her triumphs made her father smile at her? when her conquests gave him pride? When pride and love were deeply tied when it came to Ozai? She had felt it was worth it, for it made her father happy. And when Father was happy, he loved his dearest child. How could she regret it, when he had treated her like she was the best thing to ever grace Earth? Sure, he had his moments, but…

She was crying, ugly sobs shaking her body. They weren’t understanding.  _They weren’t understanding anything at all!_  Under thick tears, she saw her brother’s lower lip tremble, as she kept talking. Why was he crying? He, of all people, should have understood! He, who knew how father was! Surely he couldn’t think of him as a monster.  _Right, Zuzu?_

_But…_

She was declared mentally unstable. They said she was abused, and she bit down a humorless laugh.  _No, no_.  _They weren’t understanding_. Her father had  _loved_  her. Her father had loved her! Her father had loved her because she did everything in her power to  _deserve_  it!

It never crossed to her mind that a child didn’t need to do anything to be deserving of love.

It never crossed to her mind that scars do not always look like the one in Zuko’s face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula knew what love was.

She had loved her, once. In a twisted way. Something Ty Lee hadn’t deserved. Nobody did. Admitting it, even to herself, felt wrong. Love, as the doctors had said, wasn’t pain. Wasn’t fear. Wasn’t control. For her entire life, Azula hadn’t come any closer to the definition that was later provided to her.

And now, having it didn’t help much – it made her skin crawl, and it left her wanting to die.

“It’s learned behavior,” said her doctor one afternoon, a sympathetic smile on her lips, but a judgmental look on her face. “You were taught to think of love as abuse.”

Azula cringed, and he hugged herself tighter. No matter how much she had heard the statement; it still felt foreign and wrong. Like a slap to his father’s memory. An emptiness to her stomach. The robbery of the memories she treasured. Accepting that her father hadn’t known how to love was accepting that everything she did – _every single cruel thing that haunted her at night_ – was done for nothing. She suffered for nothing.

She was paying for nothing.

_Death would have been kinder._

“But it’s not right,” the doctor went on, looking for Azula’s eyes. She didn’t found fire. “And your behavior, at the end of the day, _whether you cared for her or not_ , was unhealthy.”

She didn’t dare say a thing, but nodded nonetheless. She understood. _She understood, and yet_ –

her mind was filled with memories of sweet laughter and soft locks of hair. Of grey eyes and the softest of smiles.

The first years, she was angry. Angry at the way the therapy sessions left her feeling undeserving of breathing. Angry at the way the doctor’s wise words served more like punishment than consolation. It was a slap of reality. A bucket of ice. The remains of her sand castles destroyed. And she hated it. She tried to escape, once or twice. Running always was her forte, after all.  Came close to finally doing it, before she was brought to a different room, under a thousand locks.

“Look what you brought upon yourself, child,” her nurse said, shaking her head. Azula wanted to punch the frown off her face so bad her hands were actually burning.

“It’s for your own good.” And she tied the leather belts that kept her in place, never bothering to look her in the eye. A banished princess deserved no respect. A mad princess held no crown; without it, she served no purpose. A kid was patronized. Azula simply couldn’t accept that.

No matter how much they said it wasn’t her fault what happened to her –her father’s treatment – Azula still thought it. It was hard not sympathizing with him after having her own flaws pointed. Her wounds were not healing as fast as she’d have liked. Months had blended into years, and recovery was still an everyday process. A fight never quite finished. A battle she had to conquer at every single moment.

She understood. She understood, and yet –

Azula had always liked to have her hair pampered. It just happened that Ty Lee was almost an expert at that – she knew how to knit the most intricate braids. If there was a new trend, Ty Lee probably knew about it already. It was something Azula admired of her, though she never said so herself. It had felt useless, back then. A nice skill, yes, but nothing that would help her bring honor to the Fire Nation. Nothing that could actually help in her foolproof plan of gaining her father’s love.

Besides, the Princess never really cared much about her appearance. She didn’t have the time for it. Days were spent training, looking for perfection –always at an arm’s length. _Enough_ was not right. _Almost_ wasn’t quite close. And _good_ was simply terrible. Back then her hair had to be kept from her face. She spent so much time running around, she didn’t have time for anything else.  Practicality over beauty became her motto.

But some days… some days Azula wanted to pretend that she was normal. That she was just another princess of a different nation, with not a care in the world. Not a war on her shoulders. And she’d want her hair in soft waves, or as slick as silk – the rich scent of jasmine saturated in it. Or maybe a touch of liner around her eyes. Or a deeper shade of red on her lips.

She might not have cared much for her appearance, but she loved to indulge herself every now and then. It reminded her of what she was; a princess. A young girl. A person under the armor.

She never asked her, though. Pride had always been one of her favorite sins, after all. But somehow, Ty Lee knew. In their tent, she would kneel behind her and start coming through her long, long hair. Mai would remark that the hairdo wasn’t that Azula, and the princes would know that it meant it was ridiculous. And she would do it with just the littlest hint of a smile on her voice Ty Lee couldn’t even feel offended, and Azula –on her good days – would think of it as a worthy sacrifice.

It was easy to forget the burden she was carrying when she was surrounded by those she trusted the most, giggling and playing pretend. Pretending they were free. Pretending they were grownups. Pretending the world on their shoulders was as heavy as a feather. Pretending they had everything under control. Pretending that everything was okay.  Pretending they liked her. Pretending they were friends.

Azula had thought herself free. She wasn’t in exile. She wasn’t Zuko. Azula had no chains of her own, no burden of disappointment. She was all talent and perfection. And it was of her free will. She could go as she pleased –as long as her father was okay with it. And she was trusted. And loved. She had thought herself adored.

Still, the afternoons spent by Mai and Ty Lee’s side were the closest she had to belonging somewhere. Those were her favorite memories. Even when they would disappear in a blinking, leaving a bitter taste to her mouth, Azula remembered them fondly. It was a pleasure she didn’t indulge in that much, but always served as a reminder of what could have been. If only she hadn’t lost her mind. If only she had cared for them as they did her (or _pretended –_ Azula wasn’t sure anymore. She didn’t want to know).

If only she hadn’t been a monster.

She had loved her, once.

It was scary, and confusing, and so hauntingly tempting that if she had been weaker, she might have known true bliss. It was a blinking away – _always a blinking away_. She’d feel her heart beating faster whenever her friend looked her way. She’d find close to heaven the small, fast and awkward touch of her hands when they walked close to each other. Close. Always close. Maybe too much.

Innocence became her, and she was terrified. It could have been so easy to lose herself. For Azula, falling and failing were two sides of the same coin. She couldn’t quite put into words what made her crave for her company, so she shut it down. That’s how she dealt with everything, back then. It was her most powerful tool. Her brilliant strength (—until everything finally exploded, and it cost her life).

Years later, finding a name for it didn’t help much, either. After all, she had hurt her like the monster she was. Azula had loved Ty Lee, and for that, she couldn’t hold her not visiting against her. Beasts didn’t deserve beauties. And even _if_ she had gone – Azula would have pushed her away. Theirs was a bond that was tainted from the start. Theirs was a story that was fated to burn and die from the very second she clung to fire and fear.

Now, standing in front of her mirror, a lopsided, ugly braid on her hair, she thought back of those days. Of those sad, big, soulful eyes, and wished for nothing but her utter happiness. She’d never dare to ask for forgiveness, but if the Spirits existed – and _if_ they listened to crazy fire princesses – she’d really, really like for Ty Lee to be at peace. Loved by those who knew how and cared by those she cared for.

Azula had loved Ty Lee, and so she clung hard to her memories. And memories would have to do. She could never love her – not after what she did. It wasn’t like she wanted to, anyway. Horror and guilt had taken her bit, and Azula had no other chance. She preferred it so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise one of these is going to have more dialogue, it's just that, since i'm trying to write with her perspective in mind (and she's pretty much alone with her own thoughts)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days blended into years. She hates him as much as she hates the passing of time.  
> A sibling reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for suicide mention, attempted suicide (though it isn't graphic, I guess).

Death would have been kinder. It was a reality that was no strange to her. Azula knows this as she knows the sun rises on the West and sets on the East. As she knows she misses her father, and her palace. And even that useless, traitor, coward brother of hers. She also knows kindness was never something she simply had – it was something she had to win. Had to fight over.

But she had tried. Tried so many times she was starting to lose count. So many times, her protectors were getting worried. And she no longer could go outside without a shadow.

She came close. Too fucking close, she was coughing blood and her vision was all red. So fucking close, her lids were heavy and the air was failing her. So close she saw her mother’s eyes looking right through her. “Dear child of mine, what have you done?” Ursa had said, and her voice sounded so real, so close. Even worried.  _So close_ …

Azula almost felt guilty. Almost. She felt her mother cupping her face, running her delicate hands around her cheeks–always soft, always pure; a daintiness to them that could only be compared to that of fire lilies – and suddenly it was worth it. “Open your eyes, child of mine. I’m here now.” And Azula kicked, and huffed, and actually groaned, but Ursa didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. She kept her soft caresses – something out of a dream. The sun glowed behind her, almost like a halo. She wanted to laugh, but she didn’t have the strength to do it.

“I’m here now, sweetest child. I’m here.”

And a dream it was, Azula found once she finally opened her eyes a few days later. She was in a different room. That one was almost empty, save for the small chair at the end of the bed. There were no windows.

Death would have been kinder.

She didn’t want to go without seeing the sun first. One last time. Azula needed to feel the power that was stripped from her. The source of her strength. The star that gave her life.

Death would have been kinder.

“How’s she?” she heard a voice outside her room, hushed whispers, and heavy breathing. “I need to see her!” the voice pressed, and it sounded almost desperate. Azula shut her eyes close. It was too loud, too loud, too familiar. “How come you didn’t know she was…?!” there was only silence. Or not. Azula couldn’t hear what the other person was saying. They weren’t as loud as the man. “ _She could’ve died!_ ”, he almost roared, and Azula actually flinched in her bed. “Let me see her.”

“I said, let me see her,” the voice went on. “It is an order from your Fire Lord! Let me see Princess Azula!”

An order from your Fire Lord. Zuko, Azula thought, with a chill traveling down her body. She wanted to run away. Needed to go as far as possible. Zuko was there. Zuko was there. Zuko was there and she had tried to kill herself. What else could he take from her? What was he doing? She had no time. No desire to look at him. No amount of power to deal with his pity, less with his indifference.

She wasn’t strong enough.

The door opened, and she stared, wide-eyed.

“Azula,” he breathed, and her hands started shaking. He looked at her –right through her – and she felt cold. His eyes traveled from her face to the bandages in her body, and his brow furrowed. ‘Azula, what have you done?’ seemed written all over his features, but he didn’t say a thing. Azula thought he was unable to speak.

And then, she noticed the second figure. A tall woman that had her arm linked with his. Stoic face and stormy eyes she knew too well. Azula could’ve sworn she actually shivered, but she couldn’t know. She hadn’t seen Mai in ages.

“Sister,” Zuko said, and he clumsily offered a small bow. “H-how are you feeling?”

“Spare me the pleasantries,” Azula managed to say hoarsely, her throat dry and closed. He didn’t answer. “I’m alright.”

There was a knot she couldn’t ignore, and it was starting to hurt. It was too much,  _too much, too much_. She couldn’t stand looking into his eyes. He looked so much like Father – and yet he was nothing like him. His horrified look was not doing any good to her. Years had passed, and she could barely recognize her big brother in the tall figure that was now at her door. He was still awkward, she noticed, but there was something graceful about him. A regal air to his very moves. She studied him in silence, and he did the same. Amber eyes looking for a threat.

Years had passed, and he hadn’t visited even once. He had left her  _–abandoned her! –_  just after stripping her very identity from her. Just after destroying her life. And he dared to come back! Azula was shaking, and there was no medicine that could help her. “I would bow… but I’m afraid I’m not feeling like it.”  _‘Usurper’_  was left floating through the small room, a word not pronounced but implied nonetheless. A sharp edge. A bitter revenge.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged, resting importance to her statement with a nonchalant gesture of his hand. His free one. The one that wasn’t intertwined with Mai’s. His eyes never left her.

“What are you doing here?” Azula asked, sharp and broken. It was better to end it as soon as possible.

“I know what you did, Azula,” he ignored her, taking a step forward. Azula clenched her jaw. “They sent after me. They said— _Azula they said_  –”

_Death would have been kinder._

“It’s not true,” she replied, suddenly too invested in her fingernails.

“There’s no use in denying it,” Mai shot, and Azula sneered.

“You  _don’t_  get to tell me –”

“Enough!” Zuko said, shooting her a look. He glanced at Mai, who nodded softly. The tall woman was soon gone, leaving a trace of red roses in the air. Melancholy and shame filled Azula. “Why.”

“Why what, dummy?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“ _Why do you care?”_

“I don’t.”

“Then go.  _I have no desire to—”_

“You hurt me. You hurt me for so long…”

“You took my bending from me!”

“It wasn’t me.  _It was –_ ”

“The Avatar, yes. But who told him to?”

“Azula, it was all for the best –” he started, brows furrowed.

“ _Go fuck yourself_.”

“You almost died!” Zuko said, fixing her with a glance.

“And I should have! You should’ve killed me, but you’re nothing but a bunch of useless, brainless idiots!”

“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, his lips in a thin line.

“You said I hurt you.  _I did_. And I feel no remorse,” she said in a small voice, her eyes locked on his. She felt his fire, and her resolution grew stronger. She didn’t need his pity just as she didn’t need his love.  “So come on now! Show me you’re better. Show me you’re worthy of your title,  _usurper_!”

 _“No,”_ he replied, and he seemed calmed save for his tormented eyes _._

“You see? You can’t do it because you’re nothing but a scared kid! The same one that offended our father with his very existence! You’re a waste of space _. No honor will_ —”

“It won’t work, Azula.”

“You’re nothing but a coward. A traitor! A disappointment for our nation –” she started, but her broken sobs betrayed her. She was pushing him away, and it wasn’t working! Azula needed her loneliness. Needed his distance. But he did nothing but keep on looking at her –with that look that reminded her of Father – and that calmness she could only envy… it was taking everything in her not to give in. Not to cry out like the scared child  _she_  was. “ _Coward! Traitor_!” she almost yelled, trembling with the force of her shedding tears.

“It was for the best,” he repeated, sitting right beside her. He took her hand in his, and a pained look crossed his eyes once he noticed her thinness.

“Then kill me. Kill me, please. I can’t –  _I can’t deal with this any longer_!”

“ _I’m so sorry_ ,” he whispered, and he seemed so lost she wanted to hit him.

“You’re not,” she shot back without knowing if she wanted to convince him or herself.

“It’s been so long. You’re still my sister. I can’t leave you behind anymore.”

“ _You’re a fool_!”

“And so are you,” he shot back. “I can’t forgive you for what you did. Not today, at least. But I don’t want you to die. I want to help you. That’s why you’re here. That’s why—”

“You  _can’t_  help me.”

“You were a victim just as I was,” he said, and his grab on her hands grew stronger. “I know it took you longer to understand but—”

“I do not regret anything I did,” she said with a shiver, forcing herself to look into his eyes. He needed to believe it. He needed to go. She wasn’t strong enough to lose anymore.

“You do,” he replied, softer this time.

“And so fucking what?!” her frustration was unbearable, and her wild eyes hurt. “I still did it! I almost killed you, and I would’ve laughed if I did! I threatened your  _wife_. I threatened your friends!”

“You’re my sister,” he said, simply.

“ _A sister that stood by while Father burned you_. A sister that –”

“Do you love me?” he asked, an eyebrow arched.

Azula couldn’t answer. She couldn’t even look into his eyes anymore. She opened her mouth. Prepared the lie she was going to tell. She could almost savor the pain in his eyes. The disappointment. But she found she couldn’t do it. Azula couldn’t answer.  Her muffled cries filled the room. It was the closest he’d get to an honest reply from her, and he knew that.

“We’ll work through this,” he said, and he hugged her close to him. That’s what Ursa would’ve wanted. That’s what Uncle had taught him. He saw good in her eyes –her fear latent and powerful, her pain an open wound – and he was going to cling to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> their relationship has been tainted for years, but I believe they don't really hate each other, as much as they want to.


	5. Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Azula remembers, and that is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is 8 years after the ATLA finale. I got the next ones already written, and there is going to be more dialogue in them, I promise!

Azula runs. Her heart is beating hard against her ribcage – she can feel it running as wild as she is. Azula runs, and no longer cares about her heartbeat. She’s no longer angry at its existence. There is no time for regrets. Azula has mourned just enough.

To her ears come the shouts of guards, of worried doctors and their broken façade. They shout her name. They shout orders against her, and she runs faster. _Fools_. They are never going to catch her again. A princess is not one to be held captive. A princess is no servant, and fire does not bend for whatever ridiculous soul. She’s too much of a flame to be tamed. Fire cannot be controlled. Even in ashes, it rises and rises, and it flies with the wind. Just like Azula. Fireless, but warmth still.

A sleeping dragon is no less a dragon.

Azula runs, and she is one with the night. A bunch of useless idiots is not going to catch a cunning warrior as herself. She worked too damn hard to make sure of that.

The woods are not scary. They are her home now – as much as she can call someplace _hers_. She has not belonged anywhere in a long, long time. Her heart no longer aches for something it cannot have.  When she planned for countless afternoons there was not a single home occupying her mind. She saw no throne, no long-lost brother waiting with his arms open and his heart changed. There was not a doting, loving father too proud of his offspring he could not stop smiling. There were no friends with soft smiles waiting at the side. There were no gold and no crowns. There were no drills and no conquests. There were only woods and an open sky kissed by the sun. There were only birds extending their wings and flying to never be seen again.

She was sure she’d be one of them, someday.

Cunningness became her. They shouldn’t have given her too much time to think. Her mind was her sharpest weapon, after all. Bending was simply an elegant touch. An extra addition, if one could call it that. Fancy, yes – but she was more than that.

The woods open humbly to their queen. She needs to find shelter –somewhere away from the trees, somewhere she can’t catch lighting. Azula laughs at the irony of it – a joyful sound that still feels foreign, an echo of a time she was hurt to remember and delighted to let go. The princess feels her long, long hair dancing, and she misses not the elegant knot she fancied. She misses being one with lightning. It’s been long enough.

She knows she needs to think fast. So she does.

At the corner of her eye she sees the mountains, and she is reminded one again of the ghost tales her soldiers used to share between the few, sacred fire sake bottles they saved. She used to listen intently to them—until they bored her, of course. But she remembered. How could she forget?  A mountain is always shelter to the souls she considers worthy. Azula is worthy of that and more.

She runs, and runs, and runs until her feet hurt, until the mud stains her slippers and they rip apart in a mess of silk and uselessness. Azula runs, and she cries when she feels the earth against her skin. It’s been long enough.

The sharp sound of thunder pierces through the sky. She feels it vibrating in her bones. Electricity runs on her fingers – and she misses it, misses the emptiness and the wholeness, and the infinite power that never before dared to leave her. _The Avatar’s blood_. _The flesh of the dragon_. _A cry of the storm_. There is no time to mourn for what was taken from her, not when she can feel its longing caress. Not when her body reacts in what can only be yearning. _The storm missed her too_ , and that knowledge is just what she needed.

Lighting will never harm her. Fire cannot be controlled, and it cannot be forgotten, either.  It’s been long enough. One could wander, but not all wanderers have lost their way. Her destiny was covered in velvet, but the veil has slipped. Night has never been clearer for the princess’ eyes.

Azula smiles, lets her head fall back. Fat drops of rain fall all around her, and the sound of their song is all that is heard in that lonely, dark woods. A roary laugh flies –she breaks the sacred silence because it is _hers_ – and the cold droplets of rain are an icy reminder of her recovered freedom. Of her ultimate conquest. A victory that is hers and hers alone.

She does not feel cold. She never has, and she is not going to start now.

She’s had enough slips already. If Azula has a say in it, she’s never going to have one again.

She’s the true phoenix. The rightful queen. The feared general. The cunning warrior. She’s the true phoenix, and she’s free, and as long as she has a say in it, not even the stars are safe from her.


	6. sharp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mai has a talk with Azula, and a secret is shared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one goes in between the last two pieces i wrote. i hope you like this!

Mai opened the door, and stepped inside without once giving Azula a look. The Princess felt her blood boil – it never ceased to annoy her how everyone pretended she did not exist anymore.

“Your crown is going to fall if you wear it like that,” Azula’s voice broke the silence in the room, and Mai’s eyes finally found themselves glued onto the princess. Maybe telling her was not the right thing to do – seeing Mai make a mess of herself would have been a delight that Azula was certain she deserved, but there was something about that unbearable silence and the heavy importance it held that disturbed her to no end. Azula wanted to flee, and for that an attack –as harmless as possible–was necessary.

The last time she had seen Mai came to her in a rush of pain and solitude, and Azula bit hard on her lips. They played together on the gardens. They grew up together. They fought side by side. They laughed until they cried, and then promised to never talk about it again. They cared for each other’s wounds, combed each other’s hairs.

And Mai did all of that for Zuko.

Mai’s only answer was a snort, but the princess appreciated nonetheless.

“Take the bins off of the Fire Lord’s sister,” she instructed to the nurses, her nose held high.

“Fucking finally,” the princess –‘cause she was a princess, for her blood even fireless was the dragon’s – murmured.

Azula was laid quietly, watching without interest the nurses doing their job. Her wrists came free, and one of them was soon to massage were the ropes had been. The princess welcomed the treatment with a sigh, thanking Agni in her mind for the luxury of feeling her blood’s flow.

“You will come to the Palace with us,” Mai announced, without flinching.

“No, thanks,” was the princess simple reply, idly looking at her nails. It would have worked, hadn’t her hands been tied at the bed in nothing but a safety measure. Mai felt a surge to laugh, because that gesture was such a childish gesture that the princess so often used to do to intimidate her subordinates. She no longer was above her. She wasn’t cruel, either. Not as much as she would want to.

“Look – I am not happy with this agreement either, but Zuko said –“

“Zuko this, Zuko that. Everything with you is always about Zuko,” Azula said through gritted teeth. “ _Dear Agni, you bore me to death_.”

“You spoke to him yesterday,” Mai gave her a sharp gaze. “I thought that perhaps the years had been enough for you to understand where you went wrong. But you’re just the same spoiled brat that you were when you had Ozai’s favor—“

“So why isn’t he here? I want to speak to my brother, not his blood mare.”

“Leave us,” Mai ordered with a movement of her hand. Some battles were best fought one versus one. She wasn’t afraid of Azula anymore – hadn’t been for a very long time.

“As you wish, Fire Lady,” the nurses nodded, walking away as fast as their little feet allowed them to. Azula sneered their way, but they never turned to look at her.

“You have tainted my family’s lineage. A traitor sits by the usurper’s side. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Mai replied, and it was with such sincerity that Azula trembled. It was true, and they both knew it. She wouldn’t have, because she valued her. Because she needed her and her skills. Because she came to appreciate Mai and Ty Lee as much as she hated to admit, and because neither of them thought it difficult to betray her. Azula was a coward, and they knew it – she had lied to herself, enchanting her troubled mind with thoughts of friends and a love she was not deserving of, and it was that love that made her hurt so.

She had learned over the course of the years. Fear never left her side. Azula wanted to forgive the woman in front of him –had already forgiven her, despite of herself – but she couldn’t make herself say it out loud. She couldn’t stand to see Mai using it against her the way the princess knew she deserved.

 “Tell Zuko that I won’t be coming back to the palace ever again,”  Azula sneered, fighting the impulse to hug herself very tight. She tried and failed to keep her eyes off the Fire Lady, as it proved to be more difficult than she ever dreamed of.

“Believe me, I already did,” Mai said, boring tone unaffected by the princess’ ire. “But my husband insists.”

“And you’re so obedient,” Azula snorted, burying her head against the pillows. It was a lost cause already, and a princess always retires with honor. She learned it so the hard way.

The princess took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She was so, so cold. Had been so from the very moment the Avatar took her fire from her, but as she relished on the feeling of the covers against her, she felt something else. A warmth that extended to her, that seemed to want to connect to her very soul.  Her eyes filled with tears once she understood what it was, and she wished nothing but to have her bending back just so she could extend her own fire to the looking warmth, to connect with it and to sing to it the song of the dragons. “Does my brother know?” she asked after a moment, her voice so low it came as a mere whisper.

Mai seemed startled, but she quickly composed herself. She was good at the game, that Azula knew. The court would be child’s play against her. “About what?” the Fire Lady asked in spite of herself, lips in a tight line. Azula would have laughed if she had the strength, if she weren’t so occupied feeling her little niece’s fire reaching to her core.

“About your offspring,” Azula replied, turning her head to look at her Fire Lady. “I can feel its fire from across the room. He must be an idiot if he cannot.”

Surprise clouded Mai’s eyes briefly, and Azula smiled in spite of herself. Agni gave her one final strike. If only she cared enough to celebrate her victory – there was something else that was way more satisfactory.

It had happened once, before,  when they were looking for the Avatar. They stayed at an inn where a Fire Nation woman was staying in. She had been pregnant, and Azula had felt the child’s fire. She had told Mai and Ty Lee about it – was so excited it seemed alien to her, unable to keep her smile off her face. It had been like a hug, the one the baby extended – she felt his power, playful nature and innocence, and she was reminded of her own. He was not that powerful, and his flame was still something that reminded Azula of ashes and embers, but there was a light and there was a fire, and it was there – on the woman’s belly – reaching for Azula as it recognized her as someone like him. She had been close to tears, touched to feel life through her power instead of death for a change. Mai and Ty Lee had been polite enough to ignore the princess’ display of emotion, and for that she had been extremely thankful.

“He does not know it,” Mai said carefully, and she wet her lips before going on. “Not yet.”

“It will be a powerful bender,” she confessed in a whisper, her eyes glued onto Mai’s belly. “Agni knows where he got it from,” the princess pretended to joke, but her tone was tender and her words trembled.

“You think so?” Mai asked as she walked towards the princess, her hands on her belly careful with her blades.

“I know so,” she admitted, and relished on the feeling the closeness gave her. She had been so cold before! Warmth surrounded her. Warmth surrounded her after a long night, and she was very thankful of that. “It will need an equally powerful master,” she said, and she resisted the urge to extend her hand and touch Mai’s small bump. “I heard Li and Lo retired. Zuko must call for them once the time is right. They are the best at what they do.”

“Come to the palace, Azula,” Mai said, “this is no place for anyone.”

“That is not my home,” the princess admitted in a small voice that seemed so different from her usual tone Mai had to blink to process it. “It hasn’t been for so long. I… I cannot go back,” she shook her head. “My life is not what it used to be. I don’t belong with you.”

“Maybe you don’t,” Mai conceded, and Azula was grateful for her clarity. “But Zuko believes you do,” she said, looking at the princess from beneath her silky bangs. She considered the threat, and lowered her guard. There was nothing a powerless princess could do against her – nothing she would let her do, and the message was clear in her sincerity. “He loves you so much, Azula. It freaks me out.”

The princess was the one that broke eye contact, much to her chagrin; shame and her were new acquaintances, after all. “You shouldn’t be afraid,” Azula said. “I don’t have the strength to cause him harm, and even if I did… I wouldn’t,” she admitted. “He is my blood – “she trailed off, and the eagerness and yearning of her tone couldn’t be masked, “the only one that I have left. And I am tired of being alone.”

Mai studied her in silence. She wanted to believe the princess had changed as much as Zuko, but her love for him prevented her to. She was surprised with what came from her mouth after, and the raw sincerity that filled her words. “Come to the palace, then.”

Maybe playing that nothing wrong had ever happened was a foolish thing to do, but she wanted to believe she was powerful enough to take down the threats. That the broken princess in front of her could be mended without becoming a war machine. That the love of his life could have all the happiness in the world that he deserved.

“My treatment is not complete yet. There’s still… stuff I need to fix.”

“You think you don’t deserve it,” Mai said for Azula, giving a small nod. “You don’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that Zuko needs you.”

“Give me two days. I need to – to say goodbye to some friends,” Azula said, her hands closed in fists at her sides. “I don’t have much to pack, but – but two days will be enough.”

“I will tell Zuko,” Mai gave her a sharp nod. “He will come later to see you.”

“I will be waiting,” Azula said, and she knew what she was about to do. It was all clear in her mind.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Now, this is my first fic for this fandom, so please forgive me if my portrayal isn't the best! (I'd love constructive criticism, however). I recently re-watched the series, and fell in love all again with the characters. It made me extremely uncomfortable the fact that Azula was only a child. So this is me trying to bring her peace. In a way.  
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do writing it!


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